


oak & ash & thorn.

by corvidteeth



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angel of Death Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Character Death, Friendship, Gen, Growing Old, Immortal Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Songfic, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), mentioned ranboo & niki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29945262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvidteeth/pseuds/corvidteeth
Summary: a melancholic songfic about phil dealing with watching techno over the years and watching him fade away. multiverse implied.based on “oak & ash & thorn” by the longest johns.
Relationships: Phil Watson & Technoblade - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	oak & ash & thorn.

Of _all the trees that grow so fair, old England to adorn Greater are none beneath the sun than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn_

Phil stands from where he’s bent over a workbench and lifts his wings to stretch, feathers and muscles shaking with the strain. A stray pin feather comes lose from it’s raven home and drifts lightly to the ground.

“Little early for you to be moltin’ Phil, you feelin’ alright?” A gruff voice says behind him.

Phil responds with a grunt, shrugging a catch out of his shoulder. The winged man turns to face the hybrid, his grimace softening to a smile. The hybrid before him stands at a towering height, several heads taller than the elytrian, with fearsome tusks and hooves that shatter skulls. Technoblade is none of that to Phil. He’s strong, yes, but in mind as well. Conjuring stories to keep the darkness and ghosts away. Always making sure that Phil is fed, that Phil is happy as he can be.

_Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs All on a midsummer's morn Surely we'll sing of no little thing In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn_

“I’m alright, mate, surely.” He says, reaching down to pick the feather up off of the ground.

He contemplates it for a moment, pinched between his index and thumb. It’s a small thing, a new growth. A lie then, about the molting. He stands on his toes and nestles the feather into the bun thats spiraled at the crown of Techno’s head.

_Yew that is old, in churchyard mould, he breedeth a mighty bow Alder for shoes do wise men choose, and Beech for cups also._

The sun blazes, hard and blaring even in the arctic cold. Phil kicks at a dying potato plant with a sigh and glances over at his companion. Gold streaks across his face like cracks in a porcelain doll, roseate hair marred with gilded strands. A single black feather adorns the end of a braid. Phil shakes the horrid memories away.

_But when you have killed And your bowl it is filled, and your shoes are clean outworn Back you must speed for all that you need to Oak, and Ash, and Thorn_

Techno coughs, leaning heavily against the winged man. Phil squeezes his eyes shut, fire and ash blazing in his memories. Hot and sticky is the blood on his hands, dark are the stains he carries. “D’ya think we could stop for just a moment, Phil?” The pinkette questions, wheezing with every breath. Phil nods shakily, slowly lowering his companion to rest against a nearby tree.

_Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs All on a midsummer's morn Surely we'll sing of no little thing In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn_

Techno signs and leans his head against the tree trunk with a thump, blood dripping from his lips and staining the pearl white of his tusks. He sends a shaky smile in Phil’s direction. Phil can’t say he does the same.

_Elm, she hates mankind and waits, 'til every gust be laid To drop a limb on the head of him that anyway trusts her shade_

It takes weeks for Techno to recover, antsy and aggressive from being cooped up inside. He’s paced the length of his cabin so many times that Phil fears he’s leaving marks in the stained wood. Eventually, he deems the piglin healed enough to be let loose and Techno only glares at him a normal amount now. Phil smiles sadly, as the signature feather has been removed from the hybrid’s hair. Oh well.

_But whether a lad be sober or sad, or mellow with ale from the horn He'll take no wrong when he lyeth along 'neath Oak, and Ash, and Thorn_

The years draw on and on, the feather never making it’s reappearance. They say goodbye to Ranboo, to Niki, who speaks of seeing Wilbur again. Phil smiles sadly, knowing who is next. The ultimate price to pay as a god, watching your loved ones fade. He is thankful for the time he spends with Techno, every new dog tamed, every soup cooked. He finds himself staring sometimes, the grey taking over the once beautiful rose colored hair. It’s short now, getting too hard to take care of as the years draw on.

Phil finds him one night, propped against that same tree, a single onyx feather clutched in his hand. Phil weeps, knowing that he’s alone. Alone again, until he finds a boy with brown hair and a fire in his eyes then a piglet with an affinity for gold. Again and again. The feather stays constant.

_Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs All on a midsummer's morn Surely we'll sing of no little thing In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn_


End file.
